Switching Tracks from Fostering
a picture in Wisconsin that my Mom took recently I am awake- still in the throes of a serious headache on this early Monday morning. Ah, well. I can use this time to write. On Train Track Switching. When we first started on the foster-to-adopt track, a long while ago, we would often be told that now we would find ourselves pregnant. Stories would be told. Things rehashed. So much so that I began to expect it. I would buy things for the baby- wondering if it would end up being for a foster baby or for one that we had ourselves. When we started taking the required 33 hours of foster care classes and I didn't particularly feel like leaving my children for 2 hours and sitting in a classroom every Monday night, I began to wonder "Is the whole train going to switch tracks this week? Are we going to find ourselves pregnant and not ever have to come here again?" I would even pray before almost every class: "Heavenly Father, do I really have to go to class ag...